The Missing One (45 page)

‘Stop!' I run towards it, my boots slipping on the stones. ‘Wait! Stop!'

A yellow-jacketed ferryman barks something at me. I skid to a halt.

‘Is it leaving?' But I can see that it is. I run over to the man. He is looping rope around a metal hook. ‘Is that ferry going back to Spring Tide? Is that the last ferry of the day? To Spring Tide?'

He nods and grunts something from beneath a rain hat and continues to loop the rope. I can't see his face – his collar is turned up, peaked hat pulled down. ‘That's the last ferry?' I shout, again. He leaves the rope and walks up the stones to the shed, which he locks. His work boots are giant and rimmed with salt.

‘Shit!' I watch the ferry disappear into layers of rain. ‘Oh shit. Oh no. Oh no.'

Everyone has gone except the ferryman, who is heading off across the road now. Susannah and Finn are not on that boat. I couldn't have missed them. So where are they?

An appalling thought plants itself in the centre of my brain: what if Maggie got this whole thing wrong? I think
of her vague, bovine face, with its slightly vacant blue gaze. I could have come all the way out here and Susannah is actually at home with Finn, thinking I've just gone and left him. And now I'm stranded. I remember Susannah saying that Maggie was unreliable – something about anti-anxiety medication.

But Maggie seemed completely certain that Susannah brought him here. She didn't seem anxious or confused about that. I look around at the deserted port. Perhaps Susannah missed the ferry. She's about to appear. It could have left early. I remember the ferries from the mainland. She is about to come.

I know that I am clutching at explanations, like someone plummeting from the top branch of a tall tree, grabbing at anything that might stop the fall. I will count to fifty. Just fifty. Then I'll do something.

This is starting to feel genuinely out of control.

I shiver in the rain, counting in my head, but I am freezing and water is beginning to soak through the parka.

At fifteen I decide I have to go to the guest house and find Ana. I can't just stand here, counting. I'll ask to use Ana's phone. I make for the road – and I can see the sign – The Raven Guest House. I can see a peeling house front with a black door, slotted between other weather-beaten buildings. It seems miraculous that it is there.

I start to move faster – jogging across the road and past a tiny closed-up store, General Joe's, and then Cat's Bar – a corrugated iron building with a boarded-up window, ripped tarpaulin across the roof, and a barrel outside for cigarette
butts. A matted ginger cat slinks behind some bins, hissing and curling its wet spine.

I batter on the guest house door. After a few moments, a grim-looking woman opens it. She has deep eye sockets, sunken cheeks and thin hair pulled back tightly on her skull. She is wearing a shapeless pullover, baggy jeans and Eskimo slippers.

‘Are you Ana?'

She nods.

‘Please – could I possibly use your phone?' I try to get my breath, to sound calm. ‘Maggie told me to find you. I'm trying to find my child. But my phone doesn't work here.'

She squints down at me. ‘Maggie?'

‘Maggie at the Rock Salt Bakery, on Spring Tide Island. I'm sorry,' I say. ‘I'm trying to find my son – he's just a baby. He's not even two.' My voice wavers. I make myself take a breath. I can't cry. ‘I just need to use your phone if I possibly could.' I half expect her to slam the door, but she stands aside, without a word, and holds it open. I step inside. The house smells of wood polish and coffee. The hall is narrow and dark, with a grandfather clock and a steep stairway, with a striped runner.

There is an old-fashioned green pushbutton phone on the hall table.

‘I'm sorry, but I need the number,' I pull my hood down, ‘of the Rock Salt Bakery on Spring Tide Island – Maggie's number? Do you have it? Or can I call directory enquiries?'

She is staring at my face, then she blinks, opens her address book and passes it to me. There, in neat hand-writing,
is Maggie's name. It's the first sign Ana has given that she knows what I am talking about.

‘Thank you,' I say. ‘I'm really sorry to barge in. Thank you so much. I'll pay you for the call, of course.' She is looking at me, intently, as if trying to work out where she knows me from – then she nods.

I turn and dial Maggie's number and an answerphone clicks in.

‘Maggie.' I force myself to sound calm. ‘Susannah isn't here – she wasn't waiting for the ferry at Raven Bay and now it's left. Please can you go and meet it, when it gets in, just in case I somehow missed them? It left here five minutes ago and it's, um, twenty past four now. And could you leave a message here at the Raven Guest House? I'm going to go and find Susannah's place now just in case they're still here. But I'm a bit worried that I'm stuck here, or I've missed them and I'm … Just call me as soon as you can, please.'

I hang up and glance over at Ana, who is still looking closely at my face. She looks away.

There will be a rational explanation for this. There always is. I hear Alice's voice in my head, telling me to think logically. I must not get dramatic. Then I imagine Doug shouting, ‘What the
fuck
are you doing, Kal?'

‘Thank you,' I say to Ana. ‘The person I was staying with on Spring Tide Island has brought my son up here for the day. But she was supposed to bring him back and I think that was the last ferry and she wasn't on it. Was that the last ferry to Spring Tide today? The one that just left?'

Ana nods. ‘Next one's tomorrow 'bout noon.'

‘Right. Oh no. Shit. OK. So.' I press my temples with the heels of both hands. ‘I need to get to her cabin then because maybe something has happened to them.' For a moment, awful images crowd my mind – of Susannah slipping on steps above the sea with Finn in her arms; of her collapsing in a cabin, from whatever illness she has, and Finn toddling out the front door, wailing, looking for me in the rain, with the waves crashing and sucking beneath him. No. I have to stop. It's too easy to make up terrifying scenarios. What would Alice say? Stick to the facts.

Finn is up here somewhere. I am about to see him. They just missed the ferry, it left early. That's all.

‘So.' I swallow and turn to Ana again. ‘Could you just tell me how to get to Susannah Gillespie's cabin? Maggie says you know it.'

‘Susannah?' Ana's bright brown eyes fix suddenly on mine.

‘Yes. Susannah Gillespie. From Spring Tide Island, she runs the gallery there. Do you know her?'

‘You want the floathouse.'

‘The floathouse?' Of course. So I was right. She did take it over when my mother left. ‘Yes. Yes. The floathouse. Where is it? Can you give me directions – I'm going to go there right now.'

‘There's no one will take you up there tonight.' Ana's voice is quiet, but firm. Something has changed in her demeanour. It's as if she is now taking me seriously, rather than waiting for me to get out of her house.

‘No. I mean, it's OK. No one has to take me there. I just
need to know where it is – can I walk? If my son is there, he'll need me – and it's possible that something has happened to them. An accident.'

‘The floathouse is out on Black Bear Island.'

‘Where?'

‘Another boat ride from here.'

I stare at her. She has broken red veins on her cheeks. ‘Another boat ride?'

‘No one's going to take you up there tonight – almost dark and a storm's coming in.'

‘Wait! No. Please. I think maybe this is a mistake. Susannah – Susannah Gillespie – she has a cabin right here, on Raven Island. Maybe she has both? A cabin here, and the floathouse up there on what was it – Black Bear Island?'

‘No.' Ana shakes her head. Her eyes are intense. ‘She just has the floathouse.'

‘Are you sure?'

She gives a curt nod. And I believe her.

‘Well, then, I have to get to the floathouse, to Black Bear Island. Right now.'

‘My nephew'll take you out in his boat,' she says. ‘But not tonight.'

‘I'll pay him. Whatever it takes. I've got cash. Please. Give me your nephew's number – please – just let me speak to him.'

‘Won't take you tonight. No one will.'

‘But someone has to.' I hear my own high-pitched voice. ‘Look, I don't think you understand – Susannah may have my child up there. Something could have happened to
them. I have to get there, right now. If no one will take me I'm going to call the police.'

She thinks for a second. ‘But they could be back on Spring Tide, though, huh?'

‘No. I don't know. Maybe. But I don't think so. I have to check the cabin, the floathouse. I have to check it.'

She looks at me, steadily, for a long while, and I can see that she's running through various possibilities. Her pink scalp is visible through her hair. It's hard to tell how old she is. She is very upright and there is an energy to her that is younger than her weathered face and thin hair as she picks up the phone and dials rapidly. She turns her back on me. I can't hear what she's saying, she's mumbling, and her lilting accent doesn't help.

‘Please,' I say over her shoulder. ‘Could I just talk to your nephew?'

She hangs up. Her eyes are alert and serious. ‘Sven's on his way.'

‘Who's Sven? Your nephew?'

She nods, then walks away, down the corridor and into a kitchen. I can see a big black old-fashioned range. I hear her open and close a cupboard.

‘Ana?' I call. ‘Sorry, but can I use your phone again? It's an international call. I'll give you the money.'

I dial Doug's mobile. It rings, but there is no answer. I leave him a message, in a very calm voice, explaining where I am and giving him the number on the guest house phone. I try home, and his work number – and leave messages on both. Then I ring Alice.

‘Where on earth are you now?' She laughs.

‘Alice. Shit. Shit! You're there.' Talking way too fast, I try to explain what's happened. ‘I'm getting really scared. I think I should call the police. I'm going to call the police.'

‘OK. Slow down,' she says. ‘Slow down. Tell me again. This Susannah woman – Mum's old friend – left you a note saying she was taking Finn on a day trip to give you a break?'

‘Well, no, or I don't know, I don't know if she left a note or not – Maggie said she would have done but there wasn't one, or maybe there was, but I didn't see it.'

‘Who's Maggie again?'

‘The baker. A friend of Susannah's.'

‘Wait, just let me make sure I'm clear because I don't think it's time to panic, yet, OK? You fell asleep this morning, and while you were sleeping this Susannah was looking after Finn for you. And then she decided to take him on a day trip to her holiday house to let you rest?'

‘Yes. Well. Sort of.' I hesitate. ‘But it's not a holiday house, Alice. It's a cabin – sort of – a floating place that used to belong to … that used to … look, it doesn't matter. I'll explain all that later. But she's got him and now I don't know where they are.'

‘Does this cabin have a phone?'

For a moment, I feel ridiculous. ‘Wait … I'll ask.' I cover the phone. ‘Ana?' I call out. My voice sounds high. ‘Does Susannah have a phone at the floathouse?'

She comes to the door, with a tea towel in her hand. ‘No.'

‘No. You should see it up here. It's unbelievably remote. There's nothing here at all. No mobile coverage. Nothing.
There's lashing rain, and the sea is violent – and it's so bloody cold. It's not like going to the Isle of Wight, Alice. This is far away.'

‘OK,' she says. ‘So when you couldn't find a note you panicked, and came after them on the ferry – but you somehow missed them. And now you're stuck on this island and they're either back on the first island, Spring whatsit, or they're at her holiday cabin?'

‘But I just found out it's on another island entirely. The floathouse – cabin – it's another boat ride away. I'm waiting for someone to come and take me there.'

‘Christ, there are a lot of islands up there.'

‘It's a bloody archipelago, Alice.'

‘But they're probably on their way home, aren't they?'

‘They can't be. That's the point. I just watched the ferry to Spring Tide – the last ferry of the day – pull out and they definitely weren't on it.'

‘It's going to be all right, Kal. Try to stay calm, OK? This is just a mix-up. I get why you're freaking out, I really do, but losing it isn't going to help. Just slow down and think clearly. Are you one hundred per cent sure you couldn't have missed them at the port?'

‘Yes, there's nothing there – a small shed. Nothing. And it's a tiny ferry with about three passengers. It seems to be mainly for unloading and loading supplies. If she was getting on that ferry with Finn I'd have seen her.'

‘Right. Then what if she didn't come to the holiday house after all? She's back at her house, on the first island, Spring Tide. Did you call her there?'

‘No,' I say. ‘God. I didn't – I'm an idiot, I can't believe I didn't think to do that first. I don't think I have her number but … '

‘Fine. There you go! Get her number from the guest house – they'll have a local phone book, won't they? Try her at home. Honestly, I bet she's there. But if she's not, then go to the cabin because you're up there, and you might as well. But I'm betting they never came out there in the first place and they're at home, and the worst thing that's going to happen is you're going to look like a twit, and you'll have to stay in a guest house for the night and apologize profusely to this poor Susannah woman.'